Aww Crap
by TiffTilly
Summary: Andy Barclay has a daughter, Andrea, sorta named after himself. What happens when she gets Chucky in the mail by mistake? Certainly some crazy...stuff. Rated M mostly for violence, swearing, and creepy dolls.
1. Chapter 1

I ran to my best friend Catherine's house down the street, right in the middle of the road. You see, Cat and I live in a town called Louisville. Never heard of it? Well that makes sense. It's basically the smallest town in existence.

I hope you didn't misinterpret how I feel about Louisville. I like it a lot. I can walk everywhere, there's barely any traffic, and my close friends are easy to reach. The only thing that sucks is that all my friends plan on going to college extremely far away from here. I feel like I'm the only person who doesn't loathe my hometown.

I raced to Cat's front door, ringing the doorbell and grinning. The door opened to her with a major bed-head and still in her pajamas.

"Good afternoon, sleepy-head!" I greeted her.

"Hey Andrea," she said sleepily. "Come on in, I'm just gonna get dressed." I smiled and shut the door behind me, plopping myself on her couch.

"Where are your parents?" I called out, curious.

"They're outta town again. Won't be back till next Saturday." She came out in shorts and a tank top while in the middle of putting her hair up. "Wanna stay here with me until they get back?" she asked sweetly. I smiled.

"'Kay, I'll just call my mom and get her to pack a bag for me."

My mom showed up 10 minutes later with a duffle bag and hugged me goodbye. She hadn't spoken to me too much ever since my dad moved out a few months ago. He never called or visited, and he barely left any notice when he left. He told us and then ditched us. My mother and I hadn't talked about him, or mostly anything else, since.

Before she left, my mother gave me a package. "It came a few minutes ago," she said quietly. I nodded and she went to her car without another word. I shut the door, walking back to the living room where Cat was watching her favorite movie, _Chucky goes Psycho._I shivered, that doll gave me the creeps.

Cat, however, was obsessed with Chucky. She read all about the murders blamed on the doll, watched the movie over and over, and always made him the topic of conversation. The stories had blacked out the name of the kid who blamed the doll for killing people, for his privacy, and she was especially intrigued in finding out who he was.

"You're watching this again?" I asked her, obviously disgruntled.

"What's in the package?" she asked, ignoring me.

"I dunno, but let's find out." I looked at the label out of habit, seeing _Andy Barclay_ printed on the front. I idly wondered if this package was meant for my father, whom I was sort of named after, but quickly shook that thought away. I ripped off the tape and opened the box.

I pulled whatever it was out from the box, curious. What I saw scared me to death, making me scream and throw it across the room.

"Oh my god, is that Chucky?" Cat cried excitedly, running over to the horrid thing and picking it up. "It is! This is awesome! Who sent him?" I frowned, looking at the label again.

"It doesn't say," I muttered, disappointed that I couldn't send it back. Suddenly an idea popped in my head.

"Uhh, Cat?"

"Hm?" she replied absent mindedly, staring at the doll.

"Would you like to keep him?" I asked.

She gasped, grinning. "Really?"

"Yes, really."

She squealed and jumped up and down, running to me and hugging me.

"Oh my god, thank you!" she repeated over and over. I stared at the doll between us, feeling uneasy about how it was looking at me…


	2. Chapter 2

Later that night, Cat and I had a horror movie marathon. We watched the first 3 Freddy movies, Friday the 13th, and finished it off with Chucky Goes Psycho. I watched the entire for the first time and it actually wasn't that bad. It was actually pretty scary.

After the movie, Cat brought Chucky in. I stared at her.

"Don't bring that thing in here while we sleep! Did you not just see the movie?" I exclaimed.

She grinned mischievously. "Don't worry, he won't hurt you. He's your friend till the end." She looked at him. "Right?"

"Hi, I'm Chucky, and I'm your friend till the end. Heidi ho, hahaha," sounded the doll's scratchy voice. He sounded like crap.

I glared at Cat before pulling the blanket over my head and falling into a dreamless sleep.

I woke up to Cat shaking me. I looked at the clock, confirming that it was 3 in the morning.

"What's wrong?" I asked groggily.

"Chucky moved!" she whispered. I furrowed my brow. "Look!" She pointed to where she had placed him.

"Cat, pinky-swear that you're not tricking me." We pinky-swore, which meant business in our friendship. She switched on the light, looking around.

"Do you see him?" she asked. I shook my head. I picked up her metal baseball bat and put my blonde hair back into a ponytail, preparing for anything. I motioned for Cat to follow me as I opened the door, walking into the living room. I switched on the light and gasped, startled to see Chucky sitting by the computer. He was just sitting there, looking like an innocent, scar-faced doll. I looked at the computer.

"Cat?"

"Yeah?" she asked, sounding relieved.

"Did we leave the computer on?" I whispered. Her eyes widened and we both looked at Chucky. I gripped my baseball bat harder and slowly took a step towards him. I hesitated, then sighed.

"Fuck it," I said, striding quickly toward him. I picked him up and handed him to Cat.

I opened up the internet, looking at whatever was recently browsed. I squinted at the screen, confused. There were search engines looking for Andy Barclay, the stories about the Chucky murders, and addresses and phone numbers scattered throughout the page. They didn't seem to relate at all.

I turned around. Cat had Chucky cradled in her arms.

"You were the last one to use the computer, right?" I questioned, confused.

"Yeah, why?" She looked over my shoulder at the screen. "I didn't look all that stuff up," she murmured. "You don't think-"

"No, Cat, I do not think Chucky looked this stuff up. I think he is a doll and it's 3 AM and you're ready to believe anything I say at the moment."

"True," she agreed.

"Here," I said. "If it makes you feel better, I'll put him in his box." I went to go grab his box. I looked around for almost 10 minutes, frustrated. I was about to give up when I heard screams from the kitchen.

I ran into the kitchen, fumbling for a minute, looking for the light. I finally found it and switched it on. It revealed Cat's body on the floor, her throat slashed and her eyes wide and unseeing. She was dead.

I stood there in shock for a moment. Suddenly something jumped on my back. I started shrieking, trying to throw it off. I smacked myself into the wall a couple of times, finally getting the thing off me. I back away, getting full sight of what attacked me: Chucky.


	3. Chapter 3

Chucky and I stared at each other for a minute until I broke the silence, snapping out of it.

"You killed Cat," I stated, sounding like a kid who just found out their hamster died. Chucky laughed like the insane little doll he was.

"The bitch wouldn't put me down, so I thought I'd make her," he said in his true voice. I frowned. "Now, you're gonna take me to New York, ya got me?" I stared at him.

"Why do you need to get to New York?" I asked, bewildered. He sneered.

"None of your business. Now get your keys."

So that was the beginning of our three hour trip. I grabbed a water bottle and a granola bar, with Chucky screaming at me to hurry up every ten seconds. I told him to quit shouting until he threatened to cut up my face. That shut me up (for the time being.)

Before we left I glanced back at Cat. I swallowed the lump in my throat, grabbed the doll by his hair, and threw him in the passenger seat.

I started the car and backed out of the driveway.

"Hey, buckle me in!" I turned to him, bewildered.

"Why? You're a _doll_, why would you need a se-"

"Just _do it_, before I rip your fucking throat out!" he interrupted.

"Fine!" I snapped. I buckled him in tightly, speeding off. It was silent for about 5 minutes. It felt like 5 hours. I turned on the radio and jumped when the music came on full blast.

"**MY FIRST LOVE BROKE MY HEART FOR THE FIRST TIME, AND I WAS LIKE BABY, BABY BABY OOHHH!****"**

"AHHHH!" Chucky and I screamed in unison. We both scrambled to turn it off and were both getting in each other's way. I finally got to holding one of his hands and turned it all the way down. We sighed in relief, then I realized I was still holding his chubby little plastic arm and released it, grimacing.

Silence. Again.

"Turn on your highbeams, I can't see a goddamn thing," Chucky ordered.

"It doesn't matter if you can see anything, _I'm _the driver," I argued. "Plus you're too short to see anything."

"I am not!"

"Yes you are!"

We went on for about two minutes arguing. Then I stopped.

"I win." I gritted my teeth.

"Whatever, I'm still not turning on the highbeams."

"You're a real bitch, ya know that?"

I gave him a cheeky grin. Then I turned the radio back up slightly. Quiet music filled the car. I remembered something I wanted to ask him.

"Err…"

He looked at me. "What?" he barked.

"Where exactly in New York are we going?" I finished quickly.

He pulled a piece of paper out of his overalls. "344 West 38th Street, apartment 5B," he recited.

"Whose apartment is that?"

"An old friend's." That was all he said. I sighed and reached from my granola bar. This was going to be a _long _ride.


	4. Chapter 4

**A/N: Hey guys, I'm **_**so sorry**_** it took me so long to update. I'm gonna try to start updating regularly from now on. Inspiration has finally hit me! Enjoy!**

An old friend's? What the hell was _that _supposed to mean? He's a doll, what kind of friends could he possibly have?

Ugh. I hate cryptic sentences.

About a half an hour went by while we were driving to the highway. Chucky was getting antsy. He kept asking me how long it was gonna be until we got there. It was _really_ annoying.

"Are we almost there?"

"No, we still have like another hour on the back roads and 2 more on the highway. I told you this five minutes ago."

"Well _step on it!_"

"I'm going as fast as I can, you fucking midget!" I snapped, glaring at him. He growled and faced the windshield. His eyes widened.

"LOOK OUT!" he shrieked. I looked forward and saw we were about to collide into a big truck. I screamed and swerved back to our side of the road. We both tipped to the side, then jolted to the right position in our seats.

I took a deep breath in through my nose. "I need coffee," I muttered. I scoured the road for a Dunkin' Donuts. I finally spotted one after a minute or two, seeing as they were basically on every other corner. I pulled up at the drive-thru, trying to ignore the fact that Chucky was handing me my purse.

"Thanks," I mumbled awkwardly. He didn't say anything. I glanced in his direction and he was in doll-mode. I rolled down my window, leaning out a little bit.

"Hi, welcome to Dunkin' Donuts how can I help you?" the scratchy voice sounded.

I ordered a vanilla iced coffee and turned hesitantly towards Chucky.

"Do… you want anything?" I asked uncertainly. He turned his little plastic eyeballs towards me.

"Oh _suuure, _I'm _parched,_" he drawled sarcastically. "I'M A DOLL, YOU FUCKTARD."

"WELL HOW AM I SUPPOSED TO KNOW IF YOU EAT? YOU DO EVERYTHING ELSE LIKE A NORMAL PERSON!"

"Are you the _stupidest human being_ on the planet or _what_?" Chucky asked cuttingly.

"I SHOULD THROW YOU OUT THE FUCKING WINDOW RIGHT NOW!" I screamed.

"Are you alright ma'am?" I heard the drive-thru worker ask.

"PEACHY," I shouted at the speaker. I gripped the steering wheel till my knuckles turned white. No one spoke for a while. Then the drive-thru person talked again, in a shaky voice.

"W-will that be all, ma'am?"

My eye twitched a little, and I nodded slowly.

"Yeah… that's all."

I pulled up to the first window, taking out a five. I handed it to the poor girl, who had already counted out my change, it seemed. She disappeared to get my drink, and didn't come back. Chucky started to get impatient.

"What the fuck is taking so long?" he growled.

"It looks like she's the only person in there," I said, peering in through the window. "She's also probably taking a moment to spit in my drink…"

Chucky unbuckled his seatbelt. I looked over at him. He held up a knife.

"I'll go get your drink," he said with an evil little grin. My eyes widened.

"No! We'll just wait!" I insisted. He pointed the knife at my neck.

"Do you really wanna try my patience right now?"

I stared at the knife, watching it glint in the light. I shook my head slowly. He raised his arms like an impatient toddler that wanted to be held. I picked him up and placed him on the sill. He slid open the window and hopped down onto the floor. The window shut behind him and I tapped my fingers on the wheel nervously.

(3rd Person POV)

The girl working at the time made Andy's coffee very slowly. She finished, placing it on the counter. She heard a _thwack_ come from the window area. _Huh. That sounded like the window closing…_

She chose to ignore it, strolling over to where they kept straws. Suddenly a clatter came from the kitchen behind her. She turned slowly, gulping. Was someone showing up early for the next shift?

She walked around the small area, stopping and gasping when she reached a doll that was on the floor. She picked it up and raised her eyebrows at it.

"You're a creepy little thing, aren't you?"

"What can I say, doll? I try!" Chucky exclaimed. The girl screamed, almost dropping Chucky. He plunged his knife into her temple, stopping her scream abruptly. Blood sprayed all around them, and he started laughing. He wrenched his knife out of her skull, staring at his handiwork appreciatively.

He climbed up onto the counter, grabbing a napkin to clean his knife with. He looked at the coffee, suddenly remembering why he went in there in the first place. He thought of Andy for a moment. _She's a good kid… And pretty fuckin' hot too…_ His mind wandered to a few terrible, terrible places for a moment. Then he snapped out of it. "Ugh!" he exclaimed, realizing whose kid she was. _What is it with me and blondes?_ He grabbed the coffee with both of his hands so he wouldn't drop it. He ran to the window, sliding it open. Hearing the jingle of the bell on the other side of the place, he decided it would be a good idea to leave.

(Andy's POV)

Chucky reappeared after a few minutes, handing me my coffee. He hopped in and hastily buckled himself in, all the while yelling "DRIVE! GO, NOW!"

I floored it, my tires squealing and my adrenaline pumping.

And only 3 hours left. Oh goody.


	5. Chapter 5

**A/N: I lied about updating regularly from the previous chapter… Lol. It's just that I'm writing so many different things right now and I just started high school, so I kind of forgot about this story. I know, "excuses, excuses…" Anyway, here's the next chapter for ya. **

My coffee kept me awake for about an hour. My eyes seemed to want to shut by themselves. It was around 4 AM when I'd start drifting off randomly. Chucky and I hadn't really spoken a lot. I was still freaked out that he had murdered that girl. I blinked heavily again, turning on the radio to keep myself awake. It sounded like the news.

"…_was found murdered only one hour ago in a Dunkin' Donuts in Louisville. The victim was identified as 23 year old Tracy Harris. The police haven't released all details yet and have yet to confirm whether or not the murder was related to Catherine Collins' death…"_

I shut the radio off, feeling overwhelmed with guilt. I started to feel sick, my breathing growing shallow and my head beginning to ache.

Chucky seemed to notice my discomfort. "Get off on the next exit," he ordered. "If you don't sleep you're gonna drive us into a fuckin' river or something."

I rolled my eyes and turned onto the next exit wordlessly. We found a motel a few minutes down the road and I looked over at Chucky.

"I don't know if I have enough money for-"

Chucky put his little plastic hand up. "Don't worry about it, I got a plan."

I bit my lip, already worried what this "plan" would entail.

It turned out that Chucky knew how to pick locks with a credit card, something I hadn't yet mastered, and we got into somebody's room. It wasn't occupied at that moment, but I was paranoid at when they would get back. I kept glancing back at the door nervously. Chucky was nonchalantly looking around the place.

"What are you doing?" I asked curiously. He looked at me as if I were stupid.

"I'm gettin' money so we can pay for a room, idiot." I glared at him, but he ignored it, finally discovering a wad of cash in the underwear drawer.

"A-ha! They're _loaded_!" Chucky whispered excitedly, holding up a wad of cash. "_And_ they've got a gun…"

I sighed, just wanting to leave as soon as possible. "So we can go now right?"

"Yep." We started walking to the door, until the lock turned. Chucky and I looked at each other, panicking.

"_Hide!"_ he hissed, and I grabbed him and ran straight for the bathroom. I skittered into the shower, pressing myself against the wall hidden by the door.

_Shit, shit, shit!_ I thought to myself over and over again. My heart pounded like a sledgehammer in my chest and I gripped Chucky like I'd die if I didn't.

I assume we looked a bit comical at the time; me gripping a possessed _serial killer_ doll that I _despised_ and not letting go for dear life. But all I could focus on then were the footsteps coming towards the bathroom. I wanted to shut my eyes but I couldn't stop watching the door out of fear of what could happen if I was caught.

The footsteps stopped when a cell phone started ringing. I should have breathed a sigh of relief, right?

Wrong.

It was _my_ cell phone.

And it was in that exact moment that I wished I was anywhere but there.

(3rd Person POV)

"Jennifer Tilly", known only by few as Tiffany, entered her rather seedy (but inconspicuous) motel room, slamming the door in frustration. "Damn broken lock," she muttered, tossing her keys on her bed. She'd just finished filming for a small role in a movie, leaving her children (Glen and Glenda) at home for a few days with a babysitter. They were 7 now, and Glen had just started getting over the fear of his father returning to kill him. Jennifer had burned and thrown out the dismembered arm that was mailed to her son for his 5th birthday. All was well with the Tilly family.

Tiffany started walking to the bathroom, rubbing her eyes to rid them of tiredness. She stopped dead in her tracks when a cell phone started ringing. A cell phone that was not hers.

She peeked into the bathroom, her eyes widening to the size of saucers at the sight that welcomed her.

A girl that looked about 18 was holding her ex-husband (still in doll-form) in her arms and was staring at her with what must have been a mirrored expression of her own- wide eyes, mouth agape, and frozen in place. The ringing came from the girl's pocket, and when it finally stopped, Tiffany looked down at Chucky, only to see him staring at her with hatred.

"Jennifer Tilly?" the girl asked incredulously. "You made us break into _Jennifer Tilly's_ motel room?" she looked down at the doll angrily.

Chucky jumped from the girl's arms, rushing at Tiffany and screaming. Tiffany screamed, slamming the bathroom door and running to the door as fast as she could in her 5 inch heels.

Chucky got the door open in a matter of seconds and flung a knife in Tiffany's direction. It stuck in her leg, causing her to fall and cry out in pain. Blood flowed out of the wound and onto the carpet, staining it for sure. Chucky jerked the knife out of her leg, causing Tiffany to cry out in anger and pain, and raised it above her head, a look of sick satisfaction on his plastic face.

(Andy's POV)

"Stop!" I shrieked from the bathroom, running over to Chucky and Jennifer. I grabbed Chucky and threw him to the other side of the room. Then I hoisted Miss Tilly up, seeing an opportunity to finally get away from Chucky.

"NOBODY MOVE!" Chucky shouted. He'd pulled out the gun that I forgot he had and pointed it at us. Jennifer was staring at him with an expression I could not place. It looked like a mix of anger and… lust? …What the fuck?

"Let her fall to the ground, Andy," Chucky said in a sickly sweet voice. I looked at Jennifer sympathetically and let go of her hand. I winced as she thumped on the floor. She let out an "oomph" and glared at me. I shrugged.

"Now, drop the knife, Tiff." Alright, I was thoroughly confused now. Wasn't that Chucky's wife's name in "Chucky Goes Psycho?" I guess Jennifer Tilly played her, but that was still kind of weird to call her that.

"I don't know what you're talking about," she said to Chucky, giving him a challenging look. He just gave her an "I don't believe you" kind of look and she rolled her eyes, tossing a knife out of her hands and to the side.

"I don't know if my ears were deceiving me, but did you call her 'Tiff?'" I asked. I wanted clarification, dammit!

Chucky smirked. "Andy, meet my wife, Tiffany. Tiffany, meet my…uhh… meet Andy."

Tiffany looked up at me, her eyes flashing green. I looked at Chucky, then back at her.

"But… but that's Jennifer Tilly," I said weakly. She shrugged.

"I haven't been Jennifer Tilly for a while, sweetface," she said with a rueful smile.

"Look, I'll spare ya the details, but all you need to know is that Tiffany passed her soul into Jennifer Tilly's body and is now living a big fat lie," Chucky said quickly.

"I see you got your arm back," Jennifer said in an annoyed tone.

"How's your leg?" Chucky asked with a smirk, ignoring her remark that I didn't understand.

"It's fine, but your son isn't. Do you know how long it took him to get over the fact that his _own father_ tried to kill him?" she asked angrily.

Chucky put on a mockingly sympathetic look. "Ooh, that hurts, babe. But not as much as this will." He grabbed a heavy looking book and threw it at her, smacking her on the head. She was out cold on the floor in seconds. I looked back at him, exasperated.

"What was that about?" I exclaimed. He ignored me, starting to look for something. I sighed, figuring I wouldn't get an answer.

"What are we gonna do with her?"

"Tie her up; put her in the closet maybe. We can take her with us tomorrow, after you get some sleep," Chucky said distractedly. "Now help me find some tape or somethin'!"


	6. Chapter 6

**A/N: I AM SO SORRY I HAVEN'T UPDATED THIS SINCE NOVEMBER! I hope I still have readers! Here's your well deserved chapter 6 if you're still willing to read!**

The next morning was… weird.

Somebody was screaming in near proximity to me. It lasted for about 5 seconds, but stopped abruptly with a choked sound. I was so tired that I was convinced it was a 10-second-long nightmare, and so I went back to sleep.

The next time I awoke was probably a couple of hours after the screaming. I crinkled my nose when I inhaled a god-awful, decay-like stench coming from the same room. I cracked one eye open, searching the room. I didn't see anything from where I was, so I let it be.

I stood up to go to the bathroom and maybe shower, but tripped on something on the way there. I fell flat on my face in a puddle of something wet. It was cold, and was most definitely the source of the terrible smell that woke me up in the first place. I lifted my head, disgusted, and peered down to see what I had landed in.

It took me a few seconds to register it.

It was blood.

I had tripped over a dead body.

Oh my god.

I shrieked, horrified, and rolled away. This only covered more of my clothes and body in the disgusting fluid and freaked me out even further. My screams of horror were intensified. I took a deep breath to let out another scream and gain the strength to get myself _out _of the _fucking puddle of someone else's blood_, but didn't get the chance.

Someone knocked me out, for God's sake.

(3rd Person POV)

_Two hours earlier_

Chucky was bored. He hadn't killed anybody in almost an entire _day_. Andy was still sleeping, and even though he was antsy to get on the road, he couldn't find the strength in himself to wake her up. She looked… hilarious.

Her mouth was wide open, making her look like a fish out of water, and her eyes were puffy from sleep. Her hair was a tangled _mess, _and he couldn't fathom how she even got a brush through it every morning.

But although this version of Andy was amusing, it was only for a short while. Chucky found he preferred the loud-mouthed version of her instead, because at least then he had someone to intimidate.

Tiff was still tied up in the closet. There was absolutely _no one _to even-

_Knock knock._

"Housekeeping!" a dainty voice called out from behind the door. Chucky's mouth curved into a little smile.

"Showtime," he muttered happily, jumping up to unlock the door. He backed up quickly, gripping his knife and suppressing the urge to giggle.

The woman that came through the door peered inside curiously. She'd heard someone unlock it, hadn't she? She shrugged apathetically to herself, wheeling her cart inside.

She shut the door behind her, looking around. She spotted a girl in the bed, a blonde one. Wasn't Jennifer Tilly supposedly staying here? Since when was she blonde?

The maid began picking up the things that were carelessly strewn about the room, placing a rather heavy book back on the shelf and picking up towels from the ground. Her eyebrows rose at the small bloodstain on the floor. She crouched down to inspect it more closely.

Her mistake.

Chucky took this opportunity to sneak up behind her and jump on her back. She started screaming, thrashing around and desperately trying to get whatever _thing_ it was off of her back. He raised his knife high, letting out a hysterical giggle, and plunged it deep into her neck. Her screams stopped immediately, much to Chucky's disappointment, and turned into small choked sounds. He soon grew bored of these, and stabbed her again until she lost the strength in her body that was keeping her up. Her hefty body slammed into the ground, blood already pooling around it.

Chucky unsheathed his knife from her throat, proud of his handiwork. He wiped it carelessly on his overalls and put it back into his pocket.

This entire ordeal – which was incredibly _loud_, Chucky noted with alert – lasted about only 15-20 minutes, and _still _Andy was not awake. Once again he considered waking her, but instead leaned back against the edge of the bed and closed his eyes, figuring it would be a while until she finally got up.

He was right. An hour and a half later, he heard screaming once more.

He looked up and saw Andy lying in the pool of blood that the housekeeping lady's corpse had left. He grimaced at the stench of death in the room, then realized Andy was probably going to get them caught if she kept screaming like that.

Chucky acted quickly, grabbing the same heavy book he'd knocked Tiffany out with, and smacked Andy on the head as hard as he could. She went out like a light, faceplanting right into the puddle that she was so horrified by.

After doing this, Chucky soon realized that he'd knocked out his ride.

"Dammit!" he exclaimed, paranoid that someone had already called the cops. And rightly so, because Andy had screamed so loud he was _sure _everyone in the entire goddamned _state_ had heard her. He realized he was out of options, and so he made his way to the closet.

(Andy's POV)

I opened my eyes groggily to find myself in the back of a car. I heard voices from the front. I struggled to decipher what they were saying.

"…even need her anymore? Why don't you just kill the kid?"

"I just _do! _She's part of the plan, okay? I just can't wait to see the look on his…"

I found that I wasn't able to keep my eyes open for much longer after that.

..

I woke up again. I sat up quickly, wincing when the pounding in my head increased.

"Wha' happened?" I asked groggily. It was then that I realized no one was in the car with me. We were parked in an empty alley.

Had we made it to Chucky's friend's house?

I jumped about a foot from my seat when someone banged on my window. It was Tiffany, with Chucky in her arms, both looking agitated. The door opened and Tiffany yanked me out, pushing me further into the alley.

We made it to a door. I was shaking by now, completely freaked out. I couldn't even make a bitchy remark.

I looked at the door number: 5B.

"Are we… here?" I asked quietly.

Tiffany handed Chucky to me with a small, unnerving smile tugging at her lips. "Why don't you find out, sweetface?"

I looked down at Chucky, but he wasn't looking at me. He was focused on the door in front of us.

"So _this _is where the bastard lives now, hm?"

"I'm guessing he's not really an 'old friend', then?"

Chucky barked out a laugh, then shifted in my arms. "Knock on the door."

"What? Like this? I'm covered in _blood _and holding a stitched up _doll-_"

"Just, _do it,_" Chucky said through gritted teeth. I hesitantly raised my blood-covered fist to the door, and finally rapped three times. We waited until finally someone came to the door.

Imagine my surprise when _he _opens the door.

Andy Barclay. My father.


	7. Chapter 7

**A/N: I'll be honest: I forgot about this story. I feel terrible about it. But here's the final chapter. I'm so, so, so sorry it took so long. Hope you like it. Also, just thought I'd point out that this story is not canon with Curse of Chucky (obviously, since I started writing it 2 years ago!) But yeah, anyways: enjoy!**

"Dad?" I whisper incredulously, but as soon as he opens his mouth to respond, Chucky leaps out of my arms, screaming.

"DAD!" I leap in after him, yanking Chucky away from my father. There is a lot of screaming and yelling, but it stops as soon as a shot is fired.

"Nobody move!"

Wait… what?

My _father _stands there, gun in his hand, switching from pointing it at Tiffany, Chucky, and even _me_, a detail I take note of with slight hurt. Everybody in the room looks surprised except for my dad, who just looks determined.

I look over at Chucky, noticing how his plastic jaw is clenched tight and his little doll hands are balled into fists. He and my father are having an intense stare down, and I'm almost too afraid to say anything.

"Dad." He doesn't respond; instead he maintains eye contact with Chucky. Finally, he speaks.

"I thought you were dead," he says to Chucky, ignoring me completely. I swallow the lump in my throat, accepting that I'm _still_ not a priority in his life.

Chucky grins in response. "Well, you know how it is. I _always_ come back."

My father smiles with no humor, nodding. "And you're here for what, exactly? Revenge? Not still interested in putting your soul in my body, are ya?" he asks, keeping the gun trained on Chucky.

"Actually I just wanted to visit. We are friends till the end, after all," Chucky says, laughing dementedly.

My eyes widen as I realize what Chucky's implying. "Wait a second!" I exclaim, making all eyes turn toward me. "_You're _the kid who blamed those murders on Chucky?"

Tiffany's the one who responds to me. "You're not too bright, are ya sweetface?"

My dad pipes up at this. "Watch it lady, that's my kid you're – hey wait a minute, aren't you Jennifer Tilly?"

"Tiff's my wife," Chucky explains. My dad raises his eyebrows.

"_Ex_-wife," Tiffany clarifies, taking out a nail file and slowly filing her index finger. As the conversation goes on, I notice my dad has visibly relaxed, if only slightly. Something about this situation feels wrong. I can't quite place what it is until Tiffany shouts, "NOW!"

Chucky dives toward me, shrieking hideously, as Tiffany throws her nail file at my dad, which imbeds itself in his arm. He cries out in pain, causing me to panic. Tiffany rips the blade out of his flesh, now holding it to his neck instead.

"Dad!" I lean forward, as if to help him, but the knife at my throat stops me. I halt immediately.

"Y'know Andy, I think we've become pretty close. I mean, we're basically fuckin' inseparable. It would be a real shame for me to have to kill you, wouldn't it?"

"I thought you said you were gonna kill me anyway," I whisper. Chucky presses the knife further into my neck.

"I've got a better idea." He hops off of my back, standing in front of me instead, the knife pointed at my chest. "Either I kill you and then your father, _or_…_ you_ kill your father, and then you live." My father's gaze snaps up to meet mine.

"W-what?" I ask, surprised.

"You heard me. You kill the fucker that abandoned you and your poor, sad mommy, and you get to _live,_ or _I _do it, and you both die. You choose." I stare at my dad in Tiffany's grasp, not knowing what to do.

Everyone is silent for a moment until I speak.

"You know," I begin, "he's got a point, dad." Chucky backs away from me, tossing me a bat from the corner of the room. I start moving towards my father, bat gripped tightly in my hand. "You abandoned me. You abandoned our family. Mom's been so depressed since you left. Everything fell apart." I move toward him still. I can sense Chucky behind me.

"Andy, I'm sorry. I love you guys, I just had to leave–"

I reach him, shaking my head to stop him from talking. He looks so ashamed. "It's all over, dad. It's all over." I raise the bat above my head, preparing for the hit, and abruptly turn around, screaming, "Goodnight asshole!" I swing the bat at Chucky, hitting him all the way across the room. I turn around as fast as I can, ready to give Tiffany a whack, but my dad has already kicked her off of him. I throw him the bat across the room and lunge for the discarded gun from earlier. I roll onto my stomach, pointing it at the oncoming Chucky. He screams as he runs forward, and I shoot out of panic. He flies across the room, his blood spattering on the wall.

I sigh, relieved (a very stupid thing to do), and am suddenly being knocked over by none other than Jennifer Tilly/Tiffany.

"_YOU BITCH_!" she shrieks, her bony hands tightening around my throat. She continues screaming unintelligibly at me, which is even harder to decipher because my vision is starting to get spotty as my airways are constricted. I feel like I'm going to pass out until she is abruptly knocked off of me. I look over at her lying next to me, a bullet hole in her chest. She coughs a few times, and then finally whispers, "Shit, not again."

And with that, Chucky and Tiffany are both dead.

* * *

"Yeah Mom, we'll be home as soon as possible… Love you too." I hang up the phone and look to my dad, not quite knowing what to say.

"Look, Andy. I know there's no excuse for me leaving, but I just…"

"You don't have to explain to me Dad, really."

"No, I do. It's just that… your Grandma Karen passed away in the hospital, and I kinda went… nuts, for a while. I was convinced it was him. So I left to go look for him. I didn't know this is what would happen. I didn't know he'd _send _himself to me." He shakes his head, sighing. "I'm sorry you're the one who got hurt."

I shake my head, giving him a half smile. "I'm just glad this is all over." He returns the smile.

"Let's call the police and then we can go home, huh?" He makes his way to the door, me following him. I can't resist looking back at the scene one last time from over my shoulder.

"Dad."

He turns around, still smiling. "What is it, Andy?"

"Chucky's gone."


End file.
